


Suckerpunch

by a_gay_poster



Category: Naruto
Genre: 69 (Sex Position), Awkward Sex, Blow Jobs, Deepthroating, Finger Sucking, First Time Blow Jobs, M/M, Prompt Fill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-15
Updated: 2020-01-15
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:01:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22260751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_gay_poster/pseuds/a_gay_poster
Summary: “I have something I want to try,” Gaara whispered. Lee’s fingers were still pressing at the span of his lower lip, slick with spit. Lee’s whole face was red, from the tips of his ears to the high arch of his cheekbones. He continued to stare at Gaara, mouth parted and unmoving, as Gaara slid Lee’s clothes off his body. “I’ve been researching techniques.”Lee gulped. “Techniques?”
Relationships: Gaara/Rock Lee
Comments: 22
Kudos: 273





	Suckerpunch

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a smut prompt fill on Tumblr! The prompt was: "Finger sucking".

The first time Gaara gave a blowjob, he wasn’t sure if he would like it. 

Kissing felt nice enough, and mouths were sensitive, but there weren’t exactly many erogenous zones on the _inside_ of one’s mouth, and certainly none in the back of the throat. But Lee had done it for him, a week prior, and Gaara felt turnabout was fair play. Reciprocity, after all, was important in a relationship. Lee was always saying that, when it took Gaara a long time to respond to his letters, or when he said something particularly affectionate, and Gaara just sat there, basking in the warmth of Lee’s attention. He was making a concerted effort to internalize that guideline, and so far it seemed to be working. There was no feeling that quite compared to the headrush of watching a grin dawn over Lee’s face, after Lee kissed him on the cheek, and he leaned in to return the favor. 

The blowjob Lee gave him had felt, in a word, _fantastic_ , and when Lee had looked up at him afterwards with that soft smile and wiped the cum from the corner of his mouth, Gaara had felt such a bone-deep satisfaction that he couldn’t help but collapse back on the mattress, relaxed and grinning himself silly. He wanted Lee to feel that, too, and he knew of exactly one way to give it to him. 

The night Gaara enacted his plan, they were kissing on Lee’s couch in his living room, half onto one another’s laps and rubbing against each other with increasing urgency. Gaara had just started teasing his fingers at the zipper of Lee’s jumpsuit when Lee suddenly froze. Then he stood, leaving Gaara in a disheveled slump on the couch cushions. 

“Um,” he said, color high on his cheeks, “bedroom?”

If Lee had _notions_ about what was and wasn’t appropriate to do in his own personal space, Gaara wasn’t going to argue with him. Certainly not if it was going to delay their mutual satisfaction, and particularly not if it let him ogle the outline of Lee’s erection under his jumpsuit over the new distance between them. 

Lee locked the door to his bedroom behind them, even though there was nobody else in the tidy apartment. That was fine, too. Gaara understood paranoia. And he got to watch the muscles shift in Lee’s tightly muscled ass as he turned to draw the shades and dim the lights. Lee had certain … peculiarities, when it came to acts of intimacy, and no small amount of self-consciousness about his body. Gaara’s night vision was acute, and the low light affected his view of Lee not at all, but it didn’t feel prudent to mention that. Nor to mention his ANBU stationed on the roof of the next apartment building over, who almost certainly would know what they were up to by the changes in their chakra patterns. Not when Lee was shaking the nervousness from his hands at the bedside, then looking up at Gaara with an anxious smile. 

It was warm in his room, though it was winter and Lee hadn’t turned the heat on, just from the extant sweat of their bodies and the burn of Gaara’s blood in his veins. 

As Lee pulled the covers down on his neatly made bed, Gaara slipped behind him. His hand found Lee’s jumpsuit zipper again. It was a finicky thing, small and designed to lay flat against the skin, with a placket of thick fabric that covered it, but Gaara had gotten better at stripping Lee at least halfway out of the garment, and he hoped tonight Lee would take care of the rest. Lee’s neck was flushed, and Gaara laid a gentle kiss at the nape as the zipper teeth clicked ever-so-slowly apart. The blush followed the growing expanse of exposed skin, and it sent a little thrill through Gaara to see it: how easily he could affect Lee with just his hands and his mouth. He sidled closer, and let Lee feel how hard he was against him. Lee breathed heavily, the ribs in his back expanding against Gaara’s chest, and exhaled shakily. 

“Do you- do you want to lie down?” Lee offered. 

Gaara nipped at the knob of Lee’s spine where it met his neck, just to watch that blush darken. His fingers were traipsing down at the small of Lee’s back now, the skin there sensitive and shivery as his rough nails followed the slow descent of the zipper. 

“In a minute,” he replied, and let his hand sweep up the bare, heated skin to Lee’s shoulders. He pushed the jumpsuit down until it hung from the bandages wrapped around Lee’s forearms. “Take those off?” The bandages were a hindrance at the best of times, and right now Gaara was so keyed up that simply continuing to unzip Lee’s suit seemed a near insurmountable task. His fingers felt thick and unwieldy as the final teeth of the zipper clicked apart, but he didn’t feel nervous at all. Merely … anticipatory. Excited. 

It was the work of a moment for Lee to unwind his bandages: just a flick of his thumbs and a shake of his wrists, then they unspooled into tidy piles on the floor on either side of Lee’s bare feet. 

“Show me how to do that, one day,” Gaara told him, as he turned Lee around, dragging the jumpsuit off with the motion. He took a step forward and used his foot to push Lee’s suit the rest of the way aside, bringing his knee between Lee’s spread legs. 

Lee leaned heavily against the wall at his bedside, and Gaara took a minute just to _stare_. The last time they had done this, they had gotten no further than Gaara’s pants open and Lee kneeling between his legs. Lee’s nakedness was altogether new. He still had his underwear on, the same dark green as his suit and clinging to the muscles of his thighs, but it wouldn’t be there for long. His blush had traveled all the way down to the muscles of his abdomen, which were jumping with heavy breaths. There was a trail of dark hair there, enticing Gaara to look lower. 

Gaara dropped to his knees, and Lee jumped, just a little. 

“You don’t- ” Lee started, but Gaara’s fingers had already found the waistband of his underwear and were dragging it oh-so-slowly down. Lee shifted his hips to assist. 

“Oh,” Gaara said, the moment he had pulled the garment fully off and exposed Lee to the air. 

“What is it?” Lee breathed. 

Gaara moved closer, hesitant, his fingers tight on Lee’s upper thighs. He felt his eyes get very wide. 

“You’re … larger than I expected.” 

The flush hit Lee’s hipbones, and Gaara traced a finger along its horizon, skirting the ridge of bone, before tracing down Lee’s shaft. Lee shuddered. 

“I felt you, before,” Gaara continued, “through your pants, but I didn’t think …” 

Lee gasped. His fingertips were as white as the paint of the wall they scrabbled against. 

“I’m sorry,” he babbled. “I never really … compared it- I mean, I know other guys do, at the onsen, but … If it’s too much trouble, you don’t have to- ”

Gaara raised up on his knees and shushed Lee with a hasty press of his fingers. 

“Stop,” he commanded, “don’t apologize.” He looked up at Lee with the same steely determination he felt when facing down an enemy, or a particularly daunting stack of paperwork. The size of the task in front of him was intimidating, but tantalizing. He reached a sudden decision. 

“I’m going to take all of it.” 

Lee was just staring at him now, his chest heaving. His knees trembled. He palmed against the wall behind him. If this went on much longer, he was sure to try to grab it to stabilize himself, and likely to destroy it.

“I need to sit down,” Lee blurted. 

Gaara stood in a flash. In an instant, his torso was snaking against Lee’s, turning him and walking him backwards towards the mattress. He deposited Lee there with a firm hand to the shoulder, dropping back to the floor between Lee’s sprawled knees. 

“You liked that,” Gaara said lowly. 

Lee gaped at him. “What?”

Gaara skated his hands back up Lee’s legs, from the ankles to his inner thighs, disturbing the thin patches of hair there, intercut with scar tissue. 

“When I said I was going to fit all of you in my mouth.”

Lee’s head dropped back on his shoulders, and he groaned. His fingers were clenching the bedsheets so hard they threatened to tear. 

“Your pupils dilated,” Gaara continued. “Your breathing got quicker. And this- ” Gaara gripped Lee at the base. “- became more flushed.” 

“You can’t just _say_ things like that.” It was almost a whine, but Lee’s voice was far too breathy, and Lee had never been one to complain. 

Gaara stared at him for so long that Lee started to fidget, interest flagging. He shifted his knees closer, expression uncomfortable, Gaara’s shoulders the only thing keeping them apart. 

“Why not?” Gaara asked. He slid his hand up Lee’s cock and circled the head with his fingers, sliding the foreskin down as he dragged his hand down to Lee’s base. “It’s the truth.” 

Lee shuddered at that, and beneath his fingers, Gaara felt him stiffening again. There was the faintest dampness at the tip of Lee’s dick, and Gaara licked his lips as he stared at it, quietly preparing himself. He adjusted his grip to position Lee’s cock towards him and found his fingers and thumb barely overlapped around it. He could hear his pulse racing in his ears, at odds with the drumming of Lee’s beneath his hand.

“If you don’t want to, you really don’t- ” Lee began, but Gaara bent to suck the head into his mouth, and the rest of the sentence was lost to a groan. 

The texture of Lee’s cock was curious: hard and soft all at once, and different within his mouth than what Gaara expected, from feeling it beneath his hand with the layers of Lee’s clothes in between. The girth of it stretched his lips wide, and Gaara found it competing with his tongue for space in his mouth. There was nothing especially _sensual_ about any of it; in fact, it felt no small amount mechanical as Gaara began moving his head up and down slowly, adjusting to the intrusion and trying his best not to drool. He found he couldn’t get his mouth nearly as far down as he had hoped, and the fact that his hand had to do the rest of the work frustrated him. He wasn’t sure what Lee had gotten out of this, last time, although he’d told Gaara afterwards that it was the best he’d ever felt. Gaara felt nothing but a vague sense of discomfort and a growing ache in his jaw. 

But then Lee whimpered, and Gaara looked _up_ , and suddenly he understood _everything_. 

Lee’s upper body was completely tense, the tendons in his neck jutting and the line of his jaw clenched. It was a perfect, heady combination of all the things Gaara found most attractive about him: the sheen of sweat on his body after a training session, the flexion of his muscles during a fight, the way his eyes screwed shut when Gaara rubbed against him just the right way and brought them both, shuddering, to an orgasm before their pants had even come off. Lee’s hips were rocking under Gaara’s fingers, and as Gaara watched, his mouth parted around a moan. Gaara’s body edged closer; his hand dropped to rub at the front of his own pants. 

Gaara had heard people refer to this act like an insult. ‘Suck my dick,’ was one of Kankuro’s most-used phrases. Naruto, when he was particularly irritated with Sasuke, referred to him as a ‘cock-sucker’. Even Temari, once, in a fit of pique after a particularly tense meeting, had referred to Councilwoman Kiku as a ‘dickmunch’. Gaara failed to see what was degrading about it, as he watched Lee writhe underneath him as if electrocuted. There was clear power in this, in how he could make Lee _move_ like that with just the flicker of his tongue or the motion of his lips. 

Lee was making more noise now, little _’oh-oh-oh’_ s and mumbled, half-formed words that made no sense at all. One hand reached out, absently, and stroked down the side of Gaara’s face. Gaara leaned into it, and the new angle let him get just a little more depth, although, frustratingly, not quite enough. 

He pulled back to better study his angle of approach, and Lee gave a pitched groan as Gaara’s mouth popped off the head of his cock. He studied it, slick and shining with his spit, red and bobbing under his hand, almost painful-looking as his hand made up for the absence of his mouth with long, slow strokes. And, infuriatingly, it remained just this side of slightly too big for him to take entirely. 

It struck him, in that moment, as cosmically unfair. Lee had swallowed him to the base easily, when he had taken Gaara in _his_ mouth. Gaara didn’t put any stock at all in size comparisons, no matter how many crowing declarations Kankuro made in one direction or the other, and he certainly didn’t feel _inadequate_ in any sense, when it came to the difference between him and Lee. But he wanted, desperately, to do this for Lee. He remembered how it had felt, the sublime heat and wetness, the intense sense of _closeness_ , the stars that had burst behind his eyes before he whited out into orgasm. It was the closest Gaara had ever come to a state of grace. He wanted Lee to feel that. He wanted to be the one to _make_ Lee feel that. 

“Um, Gaara?” Lee said from above him. “Are you okay?”

Gaara realized then that his hand had fallen still, and that he had been glaring at Lee’s dick for some unknown amount of time.

“Fine,” he said, and found Lee’s eyes and tried for his best imitation of a reassuring smile. “Just strategizing.”

“Strate- _ooh!_ ” Lee’s inquiry was cut off by Gaara’s renewed attempt at taking his cock all the way into his throat, and his hands clapped to Gaara’s shoulders on instinct, body bowing forward. “Haah,” he breathed, and the exhale ruffled Gaara’s hair. Lee was bent all the way over the crown of his head. “You- you don’t need to- to strategize. This is supposed to be enjoyable.”

Gaara’s brow furrowed. He pulled back just a bit--only as far as he could manage without headbutting Lee, with his forehead so close to the back of Gaara’s head--and tried for a yet different angle. The head of Lee’s cock jabbed at his soft palate and he choked, just a little. His throat spasmed, and he coughed. A few tears sprang to his eyes, and he blinked them back angrily. 

It was Lee who pushed him back, then, the hands on Gaara’s shoulders steering him away from his target. Gaara wiped the spit from his lower lip with the back of his hand and leaned in to try again. 

Lee’s hands held him firm.

“Woah, be careful! You can hurt yourself like that.” 

Gaara’s eyes narrowed. 

“It didn’t hurt,” he insisted, bearing forward against Lee’s hold. He might as well have been pushing against solid stone. 

Lee’s mouth was drawn down, the corners of his lips tight. He could be so damnably _stubborn_. Couldn’t he see that Gaara was trying to do this _for him?_

“I don’t want you overdoing it,” Lee warned, but he eased up and let Gaara close the distance between them. Gaara reached for his dick again and leveled Lee with a scrutinizing stare, the irony of _Lee_ being the one to say that not lost on him. 

Lee at least had the decency to look slightly sheepish as Gaara took him back into his mouth … though the expression didn’t last long as Gaara tried stroking up the underside of Lee’s cock with the flat of his tongue, trying for some semblance of imitation of Lee’s technique. Lee’s head tipped back, exposing his throat, and his thumbs started idly rubbing at the hollows under Gaara’s collarbones. Gaara resumed bobbing his head, seeking a steady, even pressure. He brought his hand up to stroke in time along the length he couldn’t fit in his mouth. It was clear Lee wasn’t going to let him make another genuine attempt, and though being thwarted in his aims chafed at him, it was easy to forget that annoyance with the sounds Lee was making. 

“O-oh, oh, oh- ” It was hardly loud enough to be heard over the wet sounds of Gaara’s mouth and hand, but he could see Lee’s Adam’s apple bobbing as the words escaped him. Gaara had found Lee to be uncharacteristically quiet during intimacy, possibly related to his uncontrollable embarrassment when it came to discussion of carnal matters. For all that Lee had a reputation as a hothead, he clung to that rigid formality. The thought only stirred Gaara on harder; it would be nothing short of incredible to make Lee lose some of his tightly-held comportment. One day, Gaara hoped to even make him swear. 

He tried for a bit more finesse: twisting his hand just-so, hollowing his cheeks as he sucked. Lee’s body reacted to every motion as if perfectly calibrated to them, Gaara watching him carefully all the while. He was an open book of the most legible sort, and Gaara read his every movement with aplomb. Soon, he settled into a steady rhythm that had Lee gasping for breath, his hips just barely rocking back and forth as Gaara stroked and sucked him. He was gorgeous like this, completely under Gaara’s spell, the lean lines of him standing out in sharp relief even in the dimmed light of the bedside lamp, the dark of his hair and the bronze of his skin stark against his plain white sheets. 

“G-Gaara,” Lee was whimpering. Under the gentle pressure of Gaara’s hand, Lee’s hips had started to outright tremble. Gaara’s cock throbbed in the confines of his pants, but between the hand holding Lee’s hips steady and the hand working on Lee’s cock, he had nowhere to seek relief. He shifted his hips forward and ground against the nearest purchase he could find, the slender line of Lee’s ankle. It was just enough, a hot-sweet pressure, the angle of the seam of his trousers rubbing _just right_ as Lee’s toes curled and his calf muscles flexed. Gaara felt himself approaching and tipping over the precipice, just as Lee said, “I’m going to- ”

Gaara leaned forward, but Lee’s hands pushed him backwards. His mouth released Lee’s cock with a wet _pop_. And Lee released … on the side of Gaara’s face and open mouth. 

Gaara was too busy shaking through his own orgasm to notice for a moment. His hand freed Lee’s hip and came to clutch at the front of his own pants as he jerked and came apart, his breathing going heavy and erratic, head bowed. This only left Lee’s hips to thrust more directionlessly, and the last of his cum landed unceremoniously in Gaara’s bangs. 

Gaara blinked up at Lee as his breathing evened, studying the wreck of him. Lee’s hair was somehow disheveled--though neither he nor Gaara had touched it--and his body was sweat-slick, every muscle shaking as though he had just been training for hours. His face was a brilliant red, and trails of goosebumps had broken out along both arms, which were still clutching Gaara tightly. 

After a few moments, Lee’s eyes eased open. He met Gaara’s gaze with a soft, satisfied smile, his chest still heaving with his breaths. Then, suddenly, his face dropped into an expression of horror. 

“Oh no,” Lee cried, though the drama of it was somewhat lost to how wrung-out he sounded, “your poor face!” 

He leapt forward and cupped Gaara’s cheeks in both hands. His thumb swiped out to collect the cum from the corner of Gaara’s lips. 

“I’m so sorry,” Lee said. “I meant to warn you.”

Gaara did not consider himself to be someone who acted on instinct, but it was utterly without forethought that he did what he did next. The impulse occurred to him, and he followed it unquestioningly. He leaned forward and sucked Lee’s thumb into his mouth, dragging his tongue along the pad of Lee’s thumbprint and licking his cum off. It didn’t taste bad; if anything, it was merely neutral, if slightly salty. Lee’s thumb was thick, calloused, knobbled with scar tissue and oft-broken bones; Gaara probed the shape of it in his mouth. Lee’s eyes went wide, pupils dilating until the dark brown of his iris was swallowed by the black of them, and Gaara knew he’d made the right choice. 

He swirled his tongue around Lee’s thumb once more for good measure, and swallowed heavily before he pulled back from the digit. It made a soft, wet noise as it escaped his lips.

“I didn’t mind,” Gaara said, and wiped a speck of cum from his cheek. He studied it for a minute, cooling on his fingers, then licked that off too. His fingers were softer, slimmer in comparison to Lee’s, and much less interesting, but the spreading blush on Lee’s face made up for it. 

“No,” Lee said, sounding strangled, “I guess you didn’t.”

* * *

Never one to be deterred from a promise once he had made it, Gaara approached the challenge the same way he did every obstacle that he encountered: with single-minded fixation and a nigh-obsessive zeal. Upon his return to Suna, he stormed the library and commandeered every anatomy textbook he could get his hands on, as well as a dusty, crudely illustrated edition of the _Ninja Sutra_. He spent midnights in his office in study of the muscles of the throat and mouth. In between stamping mission reports on his lunch break, he memorized the connections of the nerves and chakra points. 

His siblings were no help at all. 

He cornered Temari one morning after a council meeting. Given her long-term relationship with Shikamaru Nara, she seemed the obvious choice to ask. At the mention of the word ‘blowjob’, all the blood drained from her face.

“I can’t discuss this with you,” she said abruptly. 

Gaara paused, thinking for a minute.

“The question is … inappropriate,” he concluded. 

“Yes.” Temari’s voice was very high and scratchy. Gaara wondered if she might be falling ill, and made a mental note to have his assistant bring her some hot tea at lunch. 

“Can I ask Kankuro?”

For a moment, a brief flicker of mischievous light gleamed in Temari’s eyes. Just as quickly, she tamped it down with a shake of her head. 

“You can _never_ mention this to Kankuro,” she said. “He spends enough of his paycheck on beer as it is.” 

So Gaara returned to independent practice. 

He was standing in the kitchen with a carrot halfway down his throat, idly testing the limits of his gag reflex, when Kankuro walked in. For a moment, both of them just stood there, staring at one another. Kankuro was wearing an expression that Gaara had never seen on him before. He considered removing the carrot to explain, but that was the exact topic he wasn’t supposed to speak to Kankuro about. 

“Here’s what’s gonna happen,” Kankuro said, and his voice was the same tight, pitchy tone as Temari’s had been. Perhaps some sort of bug was going around. Gaara would have to check their immunization records to make sure they were up to date. “I’m gonna turn around and walk out of here, and then we’re never gonna speak of this again. This never happened, do you understand?” 

Gaara just shrugged, the carrot still in his mouth and starting to irritate him. He pulled it most of the way out and bit down.

Kankuro fled the room at a dead run, leaving Gaara standing on the tile floor chewing in confusion. He wasn’t going to waste food, after all.

* * *

The following month, when Lee stopped off in Suna after a mission, Gaara felt fully prepared. The moment the dinner dishes were cleared away, Gaara grabbed Lee by the front of his vest and steered him straight to the bedroom. 

“Dinner was absolutely delicious, by the way,” Lee was babbling. “I’ll have to get that recipe from you.”

Gaara closed his bedroom door behind them and started walking Lee backwards. “Dinner was underseasoned.”

Lee opened his mouth and looked as if he were on the verge of launching into an argument about Gaara’s culinary merits, so Gaara gripped the heavy canvas of his vest and tugged him down for a kiss. Whatever point Lee had been about to make was lost to the press of their lips. 

Gaara bit Lee’s bottom lip, and used the advantage of the surprised little gasp Lee gave to steal his tongue inside Lee’s mouth, to raise up on his tiptoes and start walking Lee further, faster, backwards to the edge of his barely-used bed. The back of Lee’s knees hit the mattress, and he stumbled. Gaara kept him upright with a hand on his vest’s zipper, which he quickly dragged down and pushed off. 

“Ah-ah,” Lee breathed, as Gaara took one of his hands and pressed a kiss to each bandaged finger in turn. “I won’t let you have me be the only one naked, again.” 

Gaara wouldn’t let himself be deterred from slowly working open the knot of Lee’s bandages, but he did step back enough to give Lee the space to use his unoccupied hand to unbutton Gaara’s jacket. 

Once he had divested Lee of his bandages--a much slower process than if Lee had done it, but all the more satisfying for having done it himself--Gaara brought Lee’s hand to his lips. The knuckles of his left hand were bruised purple, and there was a tidy line of self-applied stitches along a recent wound on the back of his pinky. The second knuckle didn’t align with the rest, pushed back and never properly healed after an errant punch. Gaara kissed each joint in turn, letting his lips drag wetly across the skin. 

When he looked up, Lee was staring at him with an awed look on his face. Gaara pressed the first two of Lee’s fingers to his mouth, feeling Lee bear a small amount of gentle pressure against the plush swell of his lower lip. Then he slowly, slowly sucked them inside. Not far, just down to the second knuckle, just a hint of what was to come. Lee’s eyes went very wide, then lidded, unfocused with lust. Gaara probed between the digits with the tip of his tongue, separating them with a single, slow stroke. When he released Lee’s hand and stepped forward to close the distance between their bodies, hand curling around Lee’s waist and up his back to unzip his jumpsuit, he felt Lee hard against his hip. 

“I have something I want to try,” Gaara whispered. Lee’s fingers were still pressing at the span of his lower lip, slick with spit. Lee’s whole face was red, from the tips of his ears to the high arch of his cheekbones. He continued to stare at Gaara, mouth parted and unmoving, as Gaara slid Lee’s clothes off his body. “I’ve been researching techniques.”

Lee gulped. “Techniques?”

Gaara spun them, then, climbing onto the bed himself and rolling until he was laying on the edge of the mattress, his head dangling upside-down off the side of the bed. He let his mouth drop open, his lips damp and swollen from their kissing. Gaara watched as understanding dawned slowly across Lee’s face, that Gaara was positioning himself at the perfect angle for _exactly_ what he had promised, and then failed to do before. 

“Come here,” Gaara insisted.

Lee took a half step forward, then hesitated. 

“Gaara, I’m not sure about this. I don’t want to hurt you- ”

Impatient, Gaara reached for the back of Lee’s thigh and tugged at it. Lee staggered forward another step. 

“You won’t hurt me.”

“You could choke! Look what happened last time, I- ”

Gaara loosed his grip on Lee’s thigh to reach for his hand and pull. Lee’s arm didn’t budge, his mouth still spilling excuses and objections. So Gaara took matters into his own hands. Quite literally. He raised his hand and plunged two fingers into his mouth, all the way to the last knuckle, and swallowed around them. He craned his neck, making sure Lee could see the working of his throat, the stretch of his lips. He made a show of pushing his fingers as far in as he could, drawing them out and shoving them back in again, until the breadth of his hand stopped their progress. 

The blush spread all the way down Lee’s chest. Between his legs and just a few centimeters from Gaara’s face, his cock twitched. 

Gaara raised an eyebrow and pulled his fingers from his mouth with a long, slow sucking noise. 

“You won’t,” he repeated. He reached for Lee’s thigh again and pushed at him with now spit-tacky fingers, until Lee was close enough to touch. 

“Now,” he said, and his lips dragged against the head of Lee’s swollen cock, “come closer.” 

It was a dirty trick, but it worked perfectly, because Lee’s eyes went just slightly crossed and his hips thrust forward until he was exactly where Gaara wanted him. Gaara’s tongue darted out and circled the head of Lee’s dick, lips parted and inviting. In a single, slow motion, Lee eased into Gaara’s mouth. Gaara willed his lips slack, his throat loose, as Lee continued to move forward, past the bridge of his palate and into the column of his throat. He hesitated for a second, and though Gaara couldn’t see his face, he could imagine the tentative expression Lee wore. Gaara gave an encouraging hum, his fingers still pulling at the backs of Lee’s thighs, urging him forward. Lee’s breath hitched, and he plunged forward those last few centimeters, until he bottomed out in Gaara’s mouth. 

A warm satisfaction blossomed within Gaara’s belly. Lee was hot and thick and perfect inside of him. He could feel Lee’s thighs trembling on either side of his head. Lee’s breath was coming ragged through his nose, harsh exhales that broke against Gaara’s bare skin, Lee’s body curled above him. Gaara couldn’t see much from this position, but he could _feel_ everything: the tug of the blankets as Lee’s fingers clenched on either side of his body, the erratic thrusts of Lee’s hips when Gaara reached up to dig his fingers into the straining muscles of Lee’s ass, the jump of Lee’s pulse in his cock down Gaara’s throat. 

Gaara guided him at first, with the pressure and release of his fingertips, guiding Lee’s rhythm from shallow thrusts to something harder, faster. Then Lee’s hips started moving of their own accord, and-- _yes, yes, yes, yes_ \--it was exactly what Gaara had been wanting. Lee was lost to the pleasure Gaara was giving him; his breathing gone haywire and his hands clutching so hard at the mattress that the springs creaked. Gaara kneaded at the muscles of Lee’s ass with one hand, but at this angle, the other was free to reach down and palm at himself as Lee fucked into his throat. He still hadn’t gotten all the way naked in front of Lee, yet, but he was shirtless, and the drawstring of his pants was loose around his hips, so he could pull his cock out and stroke in time to the rhythm of Lee’s thrusts. 

“Oh, Gaara, _fffuh- Gaara,_ ” Lee groaned. It wasn’t exactly a curse, but it was close enough, and Gaara felt his cock twitching at the praise, pleasure building within him. It was an exquisite feedback loop: Lee moving down his throat, the gentle stroke of his own hand, the gasps and moans that were sneaking from between Lee’s lips all combining to send him spiraling higher and higher into ecstasy. 

Lee dropped down to rest on his elbows, leaning further over Gaara and changing the angle of his approach. He slipped, just a bit, from Gaara’s mouth, and while it hadn’t hurt, the relief on the back of his throat was tangible. Gaara groaned around him, and Lee made a broken, desperate sound in return. His hot breath gusted over Gaara’s length, and Gaara’s hand slowed on his cock, then stilled, just as Lee faltered in his pace. If Lee shifted forward just a centimeter, he could-

It was as though they were experiencing the exact same thought at once, the joining of their bodies leading to the syncing of their minds, because Lee craned forward in that moment and took Gaara into his mouth. He swallowed Gaara to the base easily. It was _perfect_ , all wet heat and Lee within him and himself within Lee. Lee’s rhythm, that impeccable physical control, was broken by the combination of Gaara’s pleasure and his own as his hips stammered against the back of Gaara’s throat. Gaara hummed, moaned, grabbed hard at Lee’s ass and tugged him close, anything to keep this from ending. Gaara lost all sense of time and space and planning, anything but his mouth on Lee and Lee’s mouth on him, his whole body blissed out and his mind absent. 

It was moments or hours before that white-hot wave of pleasure crested up within him, building in his groin and rising to his stomach, his chest, until his whole body was flushed with it and every last cell of him tingled, electric with the thought of _Lee, Lee, Lee._ He was doing this; he was making Lee _feel_ this; every gasp and moan and stifled little noise was his handiwork, his provenance. 

He didn’t have time to give a warning, not even a tap of his hand, before his orgasm was upon him. He finished messily in Lee’s mouth, his hips fluttering and Lee sucking him through it until the sensitivity became too much. He made a little noise of protest and nudged at Lee’s face with a raised knee. 

Lee stood back upright, and in the gust of cool air that rushed between them, Gaara blinked his eyes hazily and realized Lee hadn’t finished. The head of his dick still rested between Gaara’s lips and he was just standing there, watching Gaara with a lovestruck expression and a dribble of cum on his slack lower lip. Ever the gentleman, he seemed to be waiting for Gaara’s signal before he continued. 

It took Gaara a moment to find the faculties to move, but he rolled his tongue around the head of Lee’s cock and groped absently for the back of his leg, urging him on. Lee shivered, but then resumed his movements. The pace he took up then was less bruising, his thrusts shallower, his motions little more than a gentle rocking. 

The hand that wasn’t bracing him upright trailed down Gaara’s neck, caressed the planes of his chest, smoothed downwards to circle around his hip bones. Gaara lost himself in the quiet pleasure of it, the drag of Lee’s calluses against his oversensitive skin, feeling shimmery and light. He was only dimly aware of Lee approaching his climax by the faltering of his cadence, the way he plunged slightly deeper into Gaara’s mouth as his fingers clenched on Gaara’s hip and he came. 

Gaara swallowed, barely tasting it, and opened his eyes to find Lee staring down at him, expression overwrought and satiated. His shoulders were shaking slightly with the strain of keeping his body upright. Gaara barely had the will to move his limbs, but he managed to pull himself up onto the bed enough to land his head in an approximation of the space of the pillows. He felt more than saw Lee’s body coming to rest beside his, eyes drifting closed as the mattress dipped under Lee’s weight, and Lee rearranged him until Gaara was tucked under one of Lee’s arms. 

“See?” Gaara’s voice came out rough and muzzy against the breadth of Lee’s chest. “You didn’t hurt me.”

Lee chuckled sleepily and brushed his fingers through Gaara’s hair. 

“I’m a big enough man to admit when I was wrong,” he said, between slow, fluttering blinks of his eyelids. His long lashes brushed the peaks of his cheeks. The lights were still on, and if Gaara looked up, he could see every inch of Lee’s face, his expression blissful and quiet, utterly relaxed. That warm feeling rolled through his chest again. 

Gaara opened his mouth to retort, but his throat gave a warning twinge. He could tell already that it would be sore in the morning. 

He closed his eyes and nuzzled into Lee’s chest. 

They could have that conversation tomorrow.

**Author's Note:**

> My New Year's Resolution this year is to get more comfortable writing smut, so I'm taking smut prompts right now! If you have a particular trope, prompt, kink, scenario, etc. you'd like to see written, check out my [requests post here on Tumblr!](https://ghoste-catte.tumblr.com/post/190001356247/happy-new-year-smut-requests-open)


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